Hunter Flood
by SkulY2K
Summary: On Delta Halo, a UNSC marine, Lieutenant Hunter Steele, and a high-ranking Elite, Zanu 'Towdalee, encounter a terrifying new threat. Originally posted on HBOFF.
1. Steele

**2343 hours, October 9, 2552 (Military Calendar) / Delta Halo**

The thudding of drums, the roar of electric guitars, the warbling sound of a synthesizer and the shouting of a blond, long-haired man in his early twenties. These were the sounds that entered Lieutenant Hunter Steele's ears.

His head nodded as he listened to his Flip music collection playing on a portable holopad, remembering how he had gotten interested in it when he had heard Sergeant Johnson listening to it on Earth some time before humanity had first learned of Halo. He managed to get Johnson to agree – grudgingly – to lend him an album for a short time.

"Just make sure you return it to me…" Johnson had said, quickly remembering to add, "Sir."

"Don't worry, Sergeant, it's in good hands," replied Steele.

Steele now had four albums of his own, two from the band _The Determinates_, one of the current chart toppers.

His music was one of the few things that made staying on this Godforsaken ring tolerable. He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his short, reddish-brown hair. Today had been hell. First, his platoon of twenty marines had been attacked almost literally the moment they had stepped off the Pelican. He had lost Higgins, Leroy and Irvine to those Covenant bastards. The six Grunts and two Elites had been hiding in the ruins of a small building. They must have heard the whine of the Pelican's engines and decided to set an ambush.

Steele remembered how they suddenly burst out from behind the crumbling pillars and broken walls.

Higgins and Leroy, both Privates, were the first to fall. They stood stock-still, staring at the Covenant's soldiers running towards them. They had never encountered the Covenant in combat on foot. They were always dropping their enemies from Pelicans or Warthogs, feeling invincible. They had learned too late that they were _not_ as untouchable as they had thought.

Higgins' last sight was a stream of blue plasma burning through the air, heading straight for him. He was pushed backwards by the force of each bolt. It had taken two short seconds for the plasma to leave the Elite's Plasma Rifle, make contact with Higgins' skin and melt it away. He staggered around like a drunk as his life drained away, struggling to breathe through lungs that had been cruelly burned away.

Finally, his face ashen, John Higgins pitched forward into the soft, lush grass of the ringworld.

Leroy was luckier than Higgins, in that his death was much quicker. Two Grunts had their Plasma Pistols trained on him. They fired their weapons rapidly, spending only a scant few seconds on their target before concentrating on another. Leroy's cry of anguish was piercing. His finger pulled the trigger spasmodically, spraying lead from his BR-55 uselessly into the air. He fell backwards, his eyes closed and his young face at peace.

Sergeant Irvine reacted instantaneously. He shouldered his rocket launcher, but never got a chance to fire it as a barrage of green plasma bolts impacted his chest. His scream was coupled with the sickly-sweet smell of burning flesh. His body fell backwards heavily; his eyes wide open, staring at the SPNKr ('My Little Spunker', he had always called it) which had fallen beside him, with an expression of shock and pain frozen on his face.

Second, five Drones and four Jackals had opened fire on his platoon's location as they were setting up camp. Another good man, Jones, had lost his life and two had been wounded. One was Sergeant Major Ovell; the platoon's finest tactician next to Steele, the other was Corporal Zatz, the sniper from Ukraine. Zatz sometimes referred to himself as 'The Pain from Ukraine'. Zatz was a pain, alright. A pain in the neck! He was always proclaiming that he was the best sniper in the platoon. This annoyed Sergeant Dezmin, the other sniper they had with them, as Zatz – according to Dezmin – couldn't shoot for shit.

Thunder struck. Steele then remembered why he had retreated inside his tent and turned his Flip music up to such a loud volume.

_So loud, it's gonna deafen me…_ he thought, reaching over to lower the volume a few notches. As he turned the holopad's volume down, the rain's volume seemed to get louder. It thrummed on continuously, slapping the fabric of his tent.

A Goddamn thunderstorm! And in the middle of the night, to boot! As if today hadn't been bad enough…

Thunder on Earth wasn't nearly as loud as this! His Flip music barely drowned out the sound. The rain drumming on the canvas of his tent didn't help matters, much, either.

After running the day's events through in his head, Steele suddenly realised how tired he was. He rubbed his unshaven jaw, feeling the roughness of two days' stubble scrape lightly under his fingers. Fighting off the Covenant hadn't given him time to shave. He needed to remember to do so at the earliest possible convenience. Now wasn't one of them, however.

_Tired…_

He shook his head.

_All right, I'll wait for this song to finish, and then I'm grabbing some well-deserved shut-_

Someone opening the flap of his tent brought him out of his thoughts. It was a young marine, dripping with rain.

"Sir? Ah, shit!"

The marine cringed as he heard the white noise blaring in the tent. A large _crack_ of thunder gave respite from the music for a whole second and then it was back again.

"What is it, Private?" asked Steele, locking his green eyes on the marine, slightly irritated at this interruption.

"Sir, you've got a message from Base Camp Alpha. They-they say it's urgent."

_Oh, damn it!_

Steele got up and turned his holopad off. The marine holding open the flap didn't hide his relief. Steele braced himself and plunged into the storm, heading straight for the Command Post in the centre of the camp, the young Private following him.

The camp was set up in a narrow valley, with high mountains on either side. However, the darkness and the thick, grey sheet of rain hid them from view. The platoon may as well have been in the middle of nowhere. Visibility was near zero and the night was dark, too dark. The only lights in the camp were the muted, cold colours of bulbs inside tents.

Marines in dark green parkas stood guard around the perimeter of the camp, their faces bored and unhappy. Standing around in the rain isn't exactly the most fun thing one can do.

Steele hurriedly entered the Command Post, dripping wet, trying to force his body to stop shivering.

_Come on. It's just cold. It's nothin'! You've been stationed on night watch in the middle of a _tundra_, for Chrissake!_

The four other marines in the tent saluted. Steele wearily saluted them back as the Private entered behind him.

The portable radiators in the tent removed some of the chill from his bones, but his clothes were damp, practically negating the warmth.

The tired Lieutenant rubbed his bleary eyes and then put on the headset, allowing him to communicate with Base Camp Alpha.

"This is Lieutenant Hunter Steele reporting from Sector Four-Oh-One Alpha Romero, over."

"This is Base Camp Alpha, we read you, Lieutenant," replied the raspy voice of Colonel Kieran Black.

"What's this about, sir?"

"High orbit motion tracker shows movement about three miles south-south-east of your position. It looks like there's a large building there. There's nobody stationed in that area, so we're guessing it's Covenant forces trying to use it as a makeshift base."

"Let me guess, sir," said Steele, "I've got to go and check it out?"

"Essentially, yes."

_Covenant bastards! Why can't they just stay in one place?_

"Sir, there might be a problem with that," said Steele.

"And what would that be, Lieutenant?"

"Visibility is near zero, sir and night vision would be useless with this lightning."

As if to emphasise his words, another there was another flash of lightning, followed a second later by a ripping thunder crack.

"We are aware of that, Lieutenant."

Steele felt a 'however' coming.

"However, metrological data shows the rain and thunder clearing up within the next couple of hours. It should ease off enough to give you the visibility you need."

_What about the sleep I need?_

"Understood, sir," said Steele.

He took off the headset and made began making his way back to his own tent to get what sleep he could. Before he left, he ordered the Private who had came into his tent earlier to wake him as soon as the storm showed signs of clearing.

"Yes, sir!" the Private saluted.

Steele glanced at the young marine's nametag: 'Private M. Robinson'.

_Robinson… that's Steve's nephew…_

The seasoned Lieutenant thought about his old friend, Steve Robinson, fighting on Earth, somewhere… or probably dead.

There was many a time when Major Robinson had pulled Steele's ass out of some hellish situations.

He thought back to the time he, Robinson and a platoon of Marines were fighting against a two platoons of Grunts in South Africa, only a week-and-a-half ago. Steele was too focused on stopping three Grunts from flanking them that he didn't notice one of the others priming a plasma grenade. In fact, if Robinson hadn't dragged him away from that position, they would both be dead. Fortunately, they worst they had suffered were plasma burns; they hadn't gotten far enough away to avoid the scorching explosion that had set some nearby plants on fire and melted part of the wall they were hiding behind. They had needed to spend four days in medical care due to the burns.

Steele's back hadn't yet fully recovered. He still got a slight burning, stinging sensation every so often, which almost always reared its head at the worst possible times.

Steele sighed as he trudged over the soggy ground, his spirit darkening as the rain pelted him.

The Lieutenant reached his tent and, opening the flap, tried to forget that he would have to step out into the storm again in a few hours. He needed sleep. He needed to get his energy back.

Steele clambered onto his cot and lay on his chest, not bothering to take his boots off. The thrumming rain didn't disturb him. In fact, now that he was inside, it was soothing. It wasn't long before he was in a deep, dreamless sleep. He didn't even stir when a flash of lightning lit up the entire camp for a brief moment, followed almost instantly by a loud rumble of thunder.


	2. Towdalee

**Ninth Age of Reclamation, Hall of Peace / Proximity of Ancient Structure, Halo**

The building, made of large, brown-gold stones, was a perfect square, exactly 50 feet wide and 40 feet tall. There were three entrances in the centre of the front wall of the structure; each was a gracefully curving arch, cut perfectly and all exactly identical in height, width and thickness. The building design was interesting, too; there were three tiers, each one smaller than the last, much like the tiers on a wedding cake. Each level had several identical rectangular windows spaced evenly along their sides with the exception of the top tier. Behind the building was a huge, green mountain, providing a beautiful backdrop to the magnificent structure.

Zanu 'Towdalee, a Red Armoured Sangheili, led his group of Covenant towards this very building. Of course, Zanu couldn't see very far in the heavy rain. For the hundredth time, he wiped the rain from his face, grunting in annoyance.

_Curse this weather!_ he thought.

He looked back at his group, making sure nobody was falling behind, which was common with the Unggoy. No, the five of them, including a red-armoured Unggoy, were still tottering close behind his three Blue Sangheili. Two of the Sangheili, Taytok 'Murmee and Rigon 'Kolnoree, were carrying dual Plasma Rifles while the third held a Carbine and had a Beam Rifle slung on his back – that was Innu 'Simolee, his most skilled sniper. Zanu himself was carrying an Energy Sword and a Needler. Walking rear guard were two huge Lekgolo, Narga Sono Persu and Lero Sono Madda, muttering to each other in low grunts.

After what seemed like forever, Zanu caught a glimpse of a large, shadowy form not far ahead after a bright flash of lightning. He had found the Forerunner building! Silently, the large Sangheili sighed with relief. The rain drumming on his helmet and the loud thunder was starting to give him a headache and made it hard to hear what was around him. His motion detector only helped so much. Anything moving slowly enough would not be picked up. For all he knew, humans could be sneaking up behind him at this very moment.

On that thought, Zanu turned around quickly, his Needler at the ready. He eyed the foliage closely, but with the high wind whipping the leaves around, it was impossible to tell if anything was moving in there.

Innu crept closer to his commander, "Leader, is something wrong?"

Zanu turned his head towards the young Sangheili's voice and then looked back at the rustling foliage.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong," said Zanu, shaking his head.

The tall Sangheili turned and began walking cautiously towards the building. He looked up and smiled, despite the rain thrumming relentlessly on his head. He could clearly see the towering structure, now. It was magnificent. He expected no less from the Forerunners.

If he was younger and less experienced, Zanu knew his first instinct would be to rush inside and relieve himself of his discomfort, but he knew he had to put that aside if he wanted to make sure he stayed alive. He had seen younger, less experienced Sangheili rush straight into dangerous situations and uncharted territory without his permission, giving away his squad's location and then getting cut down by the filthy humans or worse, the Flood. He wasn't about to let that happen again.

Zanu raised his left arm, signalling for everyone to stop. He moved into the bushes, his group following suit. He then motioned for the Unggoy to move forward and scout the area ahead.

The red-armoured Unggoy, named Gugum, ushered his fellow Unggoy towards the large stone structure hastily, mainly because Zanu scared him. The Red Sangheili was unusually tall, standing at around 8'10", and was cold-hearted. Zanu had a tendency to use his Needler as a cruel melee weapon, preferring to stab his enemies with the Needler's sharp crystals. Due to Zanu's close-quarters battle style, he had incurred numerous injuries and was easily angered. For these reasons, Gugum gave Zanu a wide berth when passing by him, feeling the towering Sangheili's eyes on him the whole time.

The Unggoy crept forward, their Plasma Pistols aimed in front of them, looking around rapidly. Following Gugum, they slowly crept up the ramps sloping in front of the arches that led into the dark interior of the massive building; two Unggoy on the left and right ramps with Gugum using the centre ramp. They stopped at the entrances, waiting for Gugum's orders. He turned his head left, then right, looking at his team, and then pointed into the darkness. The five short, stocky Covenant soldiers moved in, checking the ground floor of the building. From what they could see, it was empty. Lightning lit up the sky and poured flickering light into the building, extinguishing the shadows for a few brief seconds. Seeing nothing, the Unggoy headed back to their towering Sangheili leader.

Zanu turned his head as the Unggoy came walking towards him. He looked down at Gugum.

"Well?" he asked.

"I-It is empty, Leader! N-Nothing is there!" said Gugum, trying to force his voice not to quiver under the cold, uncaring eyes of the imposing giant looking down at him. Zanu grunted, then nodded and cautiously ordered his troops into the huge Forerunner building. The group moved swiftly, staying alert at all times, aware of everything around them.

Zanu ordered the two Lekgolo to stand in the shadows of the two side entrance arches as soon as the others had filed inside. Once everyone was safely under the building's roof and the Lekgolo had taken up their positions, the tall, red-armoured Sangheili began giving orders to his waiting troops.

Zanu turned to the two Plasma Rifle-wielding Sangheili, "Check the floors above. Give me all details once you get back down."

"Yes, Excellency," answered the Blue Sangheili in unison. The two turned and ran deeper into the massive stone structure, searching for a staircase, or some other way up.

Zanu turned to Innu, who was standing at the central arch, keeping a vigilant eye out for any threats.

"We will need more warriors," said Zanu, "Call for a Phantom to deliver them. It is inevitable that the humans," he said the word 'humans' with undisguised hatred, "will stumble upon us and this holy temple."

The Covenant believed the building was some sort of temple. It wasn't. It was something else…

The two Blue Sangheili, Taytok and Rigon, cautiously moved around the large ground-level rooms, each wielding a single Plasma Rifle, their other Plasma Rifles hanging at their waists. It was possible the Unggoy didn't fully check the place before reporting back. They may have missed an enemy hiding in the shadows.

"Do you think we will battle the humans this night?" asked Taytok, pivoting his body left and right, searching for a way up.

"It is very likely. I am looking forward to the combat. We shall crush them!" replied Rigon, balling his hand into a tight fist, his face eager.

Taytok stopped and pointed, "See! A way up!"

Just ahead was a ramp that ran up one wall at the back of the ground level of the 'temple'. The ramp, like the rest of the building, was in good condition, considering its age. A few small cracks and erosion from the wind marred the otherwise smooth surface. The two Sangheili silently made their way up the ramp with Taytok leading.

The interior of the second floor was equally as empty. However, in the centre of the second tier there was a square, metal trapdoor about four feet wide set into the ceiling. Since there was nothing else of interest on this level and no other way up that they could see after a thorough search, the Sangheili decided to open up the trapdoor to discover what lay beyond.

"What is on the other side of that trapdoor? We had best open it. Our leader shall want to know of our findings," said Rigon, looking at the shining square with interest.

"Agreed," said Taytok, "I shall attempt to open it."

Rigon stepped back as Taytok prepared to jump upwards and open the trapdoor using his body weight. The powerful legs of the Blue Sangheili bent and then straightened as he launched his large, yet agile body upwards. The Sangheili's broad shoulders hit the door, producing a deep _thump_. Taytok landed from his jump, grunting. He looked up, examining the metal.

"It did not even buckle!" he said with a voice that was part-awe and part-irritation. Taytok prided himself on his strength and he was not going to be stopped by a small piece of metal! The Blue Sangheili launched himself upwards once more, bashing himself into the trapdoor harder than before. The force of the blow jarred his bones but the door did not budge. Taytok grimaced and flexed his shoulders, shrugging the slight ache off. He was about to try again, but his partner placed a hand on his chest, stopping him.

"Let us try firing at it," suggested Rigon, his hand still holding Taytok back.

Taytok nodded in agreement. The two aimed at the trapdoor and began to fire their Plasma Rifles. No sooner had they began firing than Zanu and the Unggoy came rushing up the ramp towards them. The two Plasma Rifle-wielding Sangheili stopped firing, blue vapour rising from the barrels of their rifles, when they saw Zanu approaching.

"What is happening?" the Red Sangheili asked them.

"Leader," Rigon pointed upwards with his Plasma Rifle, "we have discovered a trapdoor that we are unable to open. However, I believe we are making progress, now."

Zanu looked at the blackened trapdoor and frowned, "You are unable to open _this_?"

"Yes, Excellency. Even Taytok could not bash it open."

Taytok glared sharply at Rigon, but the other Sangheili chose to ignore him. Rigon had said his statement as if Taytok was arrogant about his strength.

"Really? Even the mighty Taytok failed?" said Zanu with sarcastic amazement.

The Red Sangheili looked at them both, "Well? What are you waiting for? Continue! Get this door open!"

The Blue Sangheili nodded and began firing once more. The heat was building around them. Zanu watched as the perfectly cut stonework of the Forerunners was blasted or melted away by the plasma bolts. Once they saw the door begin to melt, the Sangheili fired with renewed vigour, using both of their Plasma Rifles.

Lightning sizzled outside, casting eerie blocks of light to flash in through the windows. A second later, a loud rumble rolled through the air.

The trapdoor was now weakening under the heat. There was a creaking sound and the metal began to glow orange. With a loud screech that set everyone's teeth on edge, the door fell from its hole. The Sangheili jumped back as soon as they saw the trapdoor falling. It landed with a loud _bang_, causing a couple of the Unggoy to jump and utter small cries.

Aside from the rain, which was now starting to ease off, and the rumble of thunder in the distance, there was no sound to be heard, only the faint ticking as the metal trapdoor cooled. In the ceiling was a new hole leading into the third tier.

Gugum stepped under the hole, being careful not to touch the still-hot trapdoor. He looked up, but could see nothing. It was pitch black up there. He looked at Zanu, who was waiting to hear what the Unggoy saw. Gugum looked up again, straining to see anything. Failing, he looked at Zanu again and shook his head. He was about to speak when he heard a slithering hiss. The small Covenant's heart froze. Fear gripped him. He now knew what was up there and why there were no windows on the third tier. He knew he should run or cry out, but his whole body seemed paralyzed.

"What is it?" Zanu asked, losing his patience with Gugum.

Gugum managed to turn his head to look upwards once more and that's when he saw Them falling out of the darkness. Gugum's eyes widened and his tongue finally detached itself from the roof of his mouth, allowing him to scream before he was crushed under the slimy, writhing mass of flesh.


	3. Hell Beast

**0107 hours, October 10, 2552 (Military Calendar) / Delta Halo**

Lieutenant Hunter Steele's green eyes fluttered open. He slowly sat up on his bunk, a dream he couldn't fully remember danced at the back of his mind for a few moments and was then forgotten. He put his head in his hands and sighed.

He listened and noticed that the rain was easing up. A distant rumble of thunder boomed far in the distance. Good. It sounded like the storm was finally moving on. Steele removed his head from his hands and took a deep breath, reminding himself that he had to go out there, soon. He lay back on his bunk, waiting.

He didn't have to wait very long. Less than three minutes later, Private Robinson, the young marine from earlier that night, slowly opened the flap.

"Sir? Oh, you're awake."

"Time to go, I presume?" asked Steele, sitting up.

"Yes, sir."

Steele nodded, "Alright. Get your gear and round up Dezmin, Ebbin and Smith. And don't forget your night-vision."

"Understood, sir."

Private Robinson left and began hunting down the others.

Steele took in a quick, sharp gasp of pain as his back started to sting. He gritted his teeth as he waited for the pain to subside. A few moments later, to his great relief, it was over – the pain had faded away.

"Ow…" he muttered.

_Damn those Grunts and their damn plasma grenades!_

Steele started to worry. What if his back began to burn during combat? No, it wouldn't do that. There was normally a long period of time between each sensation.

The Lieutenant shook his head. There was nothing he could do about it. He might as well concentrate on his next mission – finding out what the Covenant were doing with that building a few miles from his encampment.

He stood up, moved to his footlocker and, after unlocking and opening it, picked up his BR55 and two M6C pistols. He laid the weapons out on his bunk, making sure he had enough ammunition: three BR55 clips, four clips for his two sidearms and four M9 HE-DP fragmentation grenades.

Satisfied, he picked up the two sleek, black M6C pistols. He holstered the handguns and bent over to pick up his primary weapon. As he was straightening up, he heard several footsteps splatter outside next to his tent, followed by Private Robinson's voice.

"Sir?"

"Come in," ordered Steele.

The four marines entered the tent and saluted. Steele looked at their armaments.

Sergeant Dezmin was holding an S2AM sniper rifle with an M39 shotgun slung across his back.

Sergeant Ebbin was holding only a BR55 with no other weapon that Steele could see.

"Where's your backup weapon, Sergeant?" Steele asked.

"I got my knife in my belt, sir," replied Ebbin, patting the sheath as if his knife was all he needed.

Steele sighed and threw him one of his pistols in its holster and two clips, "A knife's not going to do much good at long range once you're out of ammo, Sergeant."

Ebbin looked down at the holster and then tied it around his waist.

Corporal Smith had two Sub-Machine Guns in his possession; one in his hand, the other hanging at his side.

"Are we all ready to go?" the Lieutenant asked, wanting to get straight to the mission.

All four marines saluted, "Yes, sir!"

"Alright, let's get moving," ordered Steele, "We're going to traverse the three miles on foot. Has anyone got any problems with that?"

"Sir, no, sir!" they answered as one.

"Glad to hear it."

The five marines left Steele's tent. Before they set out on their mission, Steele walked into the Command Post.

"Sergeant Grant," said Steele, turning to a tall, blond-haired marine.

Grant snapped a salute, "Yes, sir!"

"I'm leaving you in charge until I get back."

"Understood, sir."

Steele and his team braced themselves and stepped out into the rustling, dripping jungle that lay just outside their camp. The only sounds were the rain and the ominous rumbling of distant thunder.

By the time the five marines had reached the building, the rain had thinned to a light spitting. Hiding in bushes where Covenant soldiers had been only a few hours before, the marines studied the ancient structure. There was no movement. There was only an eerie and portentous stillness.

Robinson risked a whisper, "What's going on, sir? I don't see anything."

"Those things are in there," Steele whispered in response, "Don't get careless."

Steele zoomed his night-vision goggles in on the building's interior. He couldn't make out much except a few walls. He lifted his view to the second tier, seeing even less, but he could almost make out what looked like a hole in the ceiling, but no sign of any Covenant activity that he could see.

_Something wrong, here_, he thought, _something damn wrong, here…_

Steele didn't like it at all. He raised his left arm to around waist level and lowered it as if patting a dog. Everyone acknowledged the signal to go prone. Steele signalled Dezmin over. The sniper quickly, yet silently crawled over to the Lieutenant's position. Steele pointed to his own eyes and then pointed at the building, indicating to Dezmin to watch the building as the rest of them moved forward.

Steele got up into a half-crouch, signalled for his team to follow and cautiously made his way into the open. The massive Forerunner building loomed in the darkness like an imposing giant.

The Covenant could be hiding anywhere, waiting to ambush him. Steele felt his heartbeat get faster at this thought.

He stopped in front of the central arch and searched the interior with his eyes. Still nothing. He took a deep breath and stepped inside the structure.

The first thing Steele's mind registered when he entered the building was that it was intensely dark. Most of the interior was bathed in shadow. The Lieutenant had barely walked five steps when he stopped, listening. He heard what sounded like ragged, husky breathing. He moved carefully across the wide, open room and towards a doorway to the left of the main hall which opened up into a smaller room. At the threshold of the doorway, he stopped, looking at a figure lying against a wall on the other side of the room. The breathing sound was coming from there.

Lieutenant Steele and his team moved in, Ebbin keeping watch at the door while Robinson and Smith levelled their weapons at the large figure. Steele flicked on his BR55's flashlight, lighting up the figure enough for him to deactivate his night-vision. Lying against the wall was an Elite clad in red armour. Its right arm flew up to block out the light from Steele's gun. It had its left hand pressed just below its chest. Purple-blue blood oozed from under it.

"Who are you?" asked Steele.

The Elite slowly removed its arm and looked at Steele with smouldering eyes. There was no fear in those eyes, no defeat, no mercy. Only anger and hate.

"Who are you?" Steele asked again, jabbing his gun barrel towards the alien being, "What happened?"

The Elite slowly leaned right. Steele saw a Needler lying next to the wounded Elite. Quickly, he kicked the weapon aside, sending it skittering a short distance away. The Elite straightened up again with an angry sigh. Smith picked the Needler up and hung it on his belt.

The tall Elite looked up at Steele, "You do not need to know my name, _human_…"

"Well I think calling you 'Elite' is gonna get a little old after a while."

The red Elite growled at the use of the human's word for his species. Who were they to label him and his brothers?

The Elite stared at Steele for a few seconds, and then, deciding he did not want to hear that word again, spoke his name to the human.

"I am named Zanu. That is all you shall call me."

"Alright, Zanu it is. My name is—"

"I have no wish to know your worthless name, human!" Zanu's voice flicked like a whip.

"Steele. Hunter Steele," continued the Lieutenant, ignoring the interruption.

Zanu's expression darkened.

"So, are you gonna tell me what happened here?" asked Steele, again, "And where did you get that wound?"

"…We were attacked by… by the Flood," replied Zanu, darkly.

"Flood…?"

"You do not know of the Flood?"

"You're saying that you got that wound from some water?" asked Steele, cocking an eyebrow.

"Not water, you fool! The Flood are a parasitic race that infest the Holy Rings. They are to be feared."

"Tell us about this… Flood."

"They are many in number. Many. They will infect you in an attempt to turn you into one of their own. So far, they have only managed to mutate my fellow warriors and some humans," Zanu sneered at Steele's shocked face, "but never a Lekgolo."

"A _what_?"

Zanu sighed, "You call them 'Hunters', I believe. But that does not matter. The Flood infected a Lekgolo, something that should have been impossible, as they consist of many small bodies. I do not know how, but…"

"...The Flood managed to do it…" continued Steele.

"Do not underestimate them! The host will have increased strength and resistance to damage!"

Robinson and Ebbin looked up at Steele who was staring at the Elite, trying to determine if it was telling the truth or not. A parasitical race that infect Covenant and human soldiers? This Covenant Elite must be lying. Steele hoped to God it was. The last thing they needed was a stronger, more resilient Hunter running around.

"Alright, if you're telling the truth, we'll make a deal with you," Steele laid his hand on the Elite's shoulder. Zanu's eyes widened, alarmingly.

"Do not _touch me_!" the Elite shouted in rage, roughly pushing the human's hand off.

Steele was about to retort but stopped when he heard a steady heavy thumping coming from above him. Dread filled his soul.

"I don't want to find out what that is. We're moving out and you're coming with us, Elite."

Steele reached for Zanu, but the Elite pushed his hand away, irritably.

"I will not flee with humans!"

"So, you gonna stay here and let that thing finish you off?" asked Steele.

Zanu thought for a moment, and then grunted, "Very well. I shall leave with you, but I will not help you in any way."

"Whatever."

Steele again reached out to help Zanu stand.

The Elite ignored Steele's hand and began to stand up, pushing itself up the wall, "I said I do not need… augh!" the Red Elite cried out as biting pain seared through its wound.

Steele hooked Zanu's arm around his shoulder, supporting the tall alien warrior.

"Don't argue," he said, "Alright, let's move!"

Despite the immeasurable anger and revulsion Zanu felt at being touched by a human, he accepted the help. He would not survive without it.

"What was this deal you were offering?" asked Zanu as they fled the building.

"The deal was – if you were telling the truth, we'd help you out."

"You would help us? Pah!" the Elite spat, "What exactly do you mean by 'help'?"

"Well, we'd help you kill that Hunter, along with any other Flood things we come across. What do they look like?"

The group reached the bushes they had hid in earlier and plunged back into them.

"What do the Flood look like, human? You will know them when you see them."

Zanu cried out in pain, again.

"Alright, let's stop here," said Steele.

They all sank down onto the moist ground. Zanu held his wound tightly, breathing harshly.

"Watch him," said Steele, pointing at the Elite and looking back at the building. His curiosity had gotten the better of him. He wanted to see what this mutated Hunter looked like. He crept back towards the edge of the bushes and turned his night-vision on. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw movement inside. He leaned forward, slightly, trying to see better. A weak voice to his left startled him. Quickly, he twisted and aimed at the small creature crawling towards him.

"…Help…"

It was a Grunt. Clad in bulky orange armour, the small creature was finding it hard to crawl. It looked up at Steele, tears streaming down its face. It was bleeding from numerous cuts on its arms and legs.

"My friends… all dead… Flood kill them…"

Despite it being an enemy, Steele couldn't help feel compassion for this Covenant soldier. However, he did not lower his weapon; he kept it aimed at the Grunt's head.

"What happened in there?" Steele asked in a low voice.

"Flood break out! Flood kill them! Big one change!"

_Big one…? I guess it's talking about the-_

"Hunter!" Steele finished his thought aloud.

The Grunt looked at him in confusion. Then, following his gaze, gasped and stretched its hand out towards Steele. The Lieutenant didn't even notice. All he saw was a huge, lumbering beast charging out of the sand-coloured building.

The thing wore dark blue armour, like that of a Hunter, but the thing encased in it was _not_ like anything Steele had seen before. Green flesh bulged out of splits in the armour. Quivering, twitching tendrils stuck out from the gigantic body, making the creature look even larger. For its size, the monster moved with the ease and grace of a ballet dancer, despite the tight armour. A deep, bellowing roar boomed from the creature. Steele stared in horror. This was no Hunter, this was a demon!

"Oh my _God_!" cried Steele, forcing his numb body to move.

The Grunt saw him begin to leave and yelled out.

"_No! Help!_"

Steele felt a pang of conscience as he left the defenceless Grunt behind.

Seconds later, there was a sickening _crack_ as the demonic beast swung its mighty arm, sweeping the Grunt aside as if it were a rag doll. The monster gave another earth-quaking roar as it pursued Steele.

It was then Steele heard a deep, rhythmic hum. A dark shape passed overhead. A Phantom? He glanced over his shoulder and saw the demon take a sudden interest in the floating, purple vessel. He stopped for a few seconds, catching his breath and then continued on back to his team.

He found them where he had left them, all of them looking around, worriedly.

"Sir!" cried Robinson, "What the hell was that noise?"

"It was that Hunter thing. It's real. Looks like it's taken an interest in the Phantom, for now, though."

"Ah, yes, the Phantom," said Zanu, smirking, "I had almost forgotten."

"You knew a Phantom was coming?" asked Steele.

"Yes," replied Zanu, looking at Steele with an amused expression.

"And you didn't think that was worth _mentioning_?"

"Why should we divulge anything to you? Give me a reason, human."

Sounds of battle emanated from the Phantom's position.

"My brothers shall defeat that parasite. All of our enemies have fallen before us, as shall your pitiful race, human."

Steele had had enough of the Elite's arrogant attitude. He clenched his right hand into a tight fist and struck the sneering face with a fierce backhand blow.

The Elite's head snapped to the left. Its burning gaze locked onto Steele. The Elite held a large hand up to its stinging mandibles. It made to move towards Steele, but Robinson and Smith jabbed their weapons forward meaningfully, making Zanu think better of attacking.

"You will regret that, you filthy human scum!" it growled, sinking back down.

"Yeah? What are you gonna-?"

Suddenly, a series of plasma explosions ripped through the night air. Steele and his team reflexively turned their attention towards the sounds. Zanu used the brief lull in concentration to launch himself at Steele.

"Damn!" swore Robinson as he saw Zanu charge towards his commander.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Lieutenant saw a blur of red and heard Robinson crying out before he found himself on the ground, wrestling with the huge Red Elite.

"What am I going to do, human?" mocked Zanu, "I am going to kill you!"

Before the Elite could make good on his threat, Steele head butted the creature making it recoil. His forehead throbbed painfully after striking the hard armour, but he ignored it long enough to raise his knee sharply and strike the Elite's wound causing Zanu let out a loud cry of pain. Then, pushing his arms upwards, Steele threw the Elite off. Wasting no time, he got to his feet. Robinson and Dezmin aimed their weapons at the Covenant soldier, with Dezmin holding the M6C sidearm Steele had handed him earlier.

"Sir, are you all right?" asked Smith.

"Fine, just fine," replied the shaken Lieutenant, rubbing his forehead.

It was then that the small group noticed the sounds of battle were no longer heard. The hum of the Phantom had also stopped. Steele remembered being faintly aware of the sound of the Phantom swiftly fading away as he struck the Elite's face. Now everything was silent except for the faint rustling of the foliage as it swayed in the post-storm wind.

Zanu stood before Steele, holding its wound. Behind it, Steele saw a quick glance of something _big_ moving behind the Elite in the underbrush.

"Get down!" shouted Steele suddenly at Zanu.

Steele was half-surprised to see the Elite doing so, throwing itself on the ground. A moment later, a large object passed through the space the Elite had been standing with a heavy _whoosh_. All the marines turned to see what had tried to attack the Covenant soldier. They stared at the huge monster in horror. It had found them. The Hunter Flood was here. Zanu rolled away from the mutated monster as it recovered from its deadly swing. Steele saw smears of blood from the mixed Covenant races that had arrived in the Phantom covering the huge shield.

"Give me my Needler and run," said Zanu in a low voice.

"What?" asked Steele, wondering if he had heard the Elite correctly.

"Give me my Needler!" Zanu repeated loudly.

"We're not leaving!" Steele replied angrily.

"Sir, we're not?" asked Robinson, his voice revealing more fear than he intended it to.

The huge Flood form roared and made to crush Zanu's body again with another swing of its impenetrable shield. The Red Elite jumped backwards, the shield missing by inches.

"By the Rings, give me my Needler!" Zanu shouted.

Steele looked at Smith and nodded. The Corporal quickly unhooked the Covenant Needler and threw it to the tall Elite.

"Now, get out of here," said Zanu over his shoulder, dodging a surprisingly fast lunge from the Hunter.

"I'm staying," said Steele.

"Sir, no disrespect, but let that Elite kill itself! We don't stand a chance!" cried Dezmin.

"I said _I'm_ staying," replied Steele, "Get back to base camp and gather a couple of rocket launchers. Me and the Elite'll keep this thing busy."

Without waiting for an answer, Steele turned towards the Hunter bearing down on Zanu, who was still waiting for an opening to attack. The Lieutenant fired his BR55 at the exposed back of the Flood creature. Green blood sprayed out as the bullets impacted the soft flesh.

Dezmin, Smith and Robinson dashed back to base camp as the Flood juggernaut turned its rage on Steele.


	4. Mutation

**Ninth Age of Reclamation, Hall of Peace / Ancient Structure, Halo**

Lero Sono Madda stood by one of the large archways of the Forerunner building, carefully surveying the landscape for any threatening movement. His partner, Narga Sono Persu, stood by the arch opposite. Innu 'Simolee, having already requested a Phantom of warriors, was crouched in the shadows of the central arch, sweeping the outside with his Beam Rifle, a Carbine on his back for close-range combat.

Lero turned at the sound of Plasma Rifle fire. His leader, Zanu, looked up and grunted. He turned to the three figures at the arches, "Stay here and don't move. I will be back."

The tall, Red Armoured Sangheili motioned for the Unggoy to follow him. Lero turned back to the rustling foliage as the Unggoy toddled after Zanu.

Lero shifted, slightly, the spines on his back bristling. He was bored. He wanted to crush something; a boulder, a frail human body, even an Unggoy. His attention drifting, the Lekgolo imagined bringing his massive shield down on a screaming human, excited by the look of fear on his victim's face and revelling in the wonderful feeling of power as the human's body was ground into dust.

Lero realised his mind was wandering and quickly focused on the foliage, again, ignoring the glance given to him by Innu.

There was more firing from above, followed by a deep booming sound. Although curious, Lero knew it was not his concern. It was most likely nothing important.

Lero's mind wandered, again. His boredom was making him so weary! Staring out into the constantly moving jungle, the massive Lekgolo sighed heavily. Innu looked over at him, irritably, and then resumed his attentive watch with a shake of his head.

The powerful Lekgolo attempted to focus on his duty, mustering all of his will to keep himself alert, but it was not easy. He had already been awake for more than two days. He could have staved off sleep for an extra day or two, but recent events had depleted his energy, vastly.

Two days prior, Zanu had told them of a Forerunner building of great importance and that they must reach it before the humans. They had planned for almost an entire day, deciding at last to approach under cover of night. Lero had been set guard duty that night, along with Narga. Only an hour later, just when his group was about to begin their journey, the humans had made a surprise attack on their encampment. Lero had enjoyed that – swinging his mighty shield, bludgeoning the foolish humans to death and vaporising their pathetic bodies with his powerful Fuel Rod Cannon. The battle, although short, had tired him. The attack had caused them to delay until the next day and Lero found himself unable to sleep. Slumber teased him, but every time he offered himself, it floated away, like dust on the wind. That night had seemed like torture, everyone around him was blissfully resting their bodies, dreams filling their heads while he sat with his back against a large rock, always about to fall asleep before suddenly waking up for no reason. Finally, after many long, long hours, they set out to find the temple.

They would have arrived by Phantom, but the risk of being spotted and attacked by humans on the way was too great, so instead they had flown a short distance and continued on foot. And then the rain had started, chilling Lero where his armour did not conceal the worm-like organisms. The rain was also causing Narga discomfort, Lero noted, as his partner kept shaking himself every once in a while.

A small, high-pitched scream brought the Lekgolo out of his reverie.

_That sounded like an Unggoy…_ thought Lero.

There was a confusion of noises coming from the floor above. Unggoy voices yelling, Zanu barking out orders, plasma fire and what sounded like guttural roars.

The three Covenant at the arches found their attention being divided between the outside and inside.

"You two stay here," ordered Innu, shouldering his Beam Rifle and unslinging his Carbine.

Checking the Carbine clip's gauge to make sure it had a full compliment of ammunition – it did – the keen-sighted Sangheili started on his way towards the ramp which would lead him up to the second floor. He had just slipped out of Lero's line of sight when the large Covenant warrior heard the Sangheili cry out.

"No!"

Short, sharp sounds of the Carbine being fired could be heard. Lero saw Innu running backwards out of the shadows, firing blindly, the shadows producing several rapid 'popping' sounds. Scant seconds later, several dozen small, yellowish-green shapes came skittering into view. They were Flood Infection Forms.

Both Lekgolo contracted into their combat stances, keeping their backs to the wall, trying to limit the amount of flesh exposed.

Innu continued firing when his Carbine suddenly ran out of ammunition. Fumbling for a clip, the Sangheili warrior didn't notice a particularly large swarm of Infection Forms slithering towards him. They leaped at him just as he locked a clip into place, exploding as they came into contact with his shields. Half-blinded by his shields flashing violently, Innu's finger involuntarily tightened on the trigger of his weapon. A green beam shot out of the Carbine's barrel, deflecting off of Narga's shield and hitting the ceiling. There was no time to comment on the stray shot from any of the three Covenant warriors, as more Flood kept appearing.

Lero fired his fuel rod cannon at an approaching swarm, the powerful green beam obliterating them all and leaving a small crater in their place. Looking around for any more Flood, Lero saw Innu's shields fail. More Flood continued to jump on him as he dropped his gun and began tearing in panic at the strange creatures that were crawling over him like giant spiders. Innu's efforts stopped as an Infection Form plunged a tendril into his lower back. His body went rigid as the Infection Form began to burrow into his body, moving his internal organs out of the way to his chest cavity. Innu vomited blood and began convulsing as the Flood organism released spores, changing his DNA. Innu 'Simolee was fully conscious of the large, oddly-shaped presence inside his body, fully conscious of his organs being crushed against each other, making it hard to breathe, fully conscious of the pain that was so intense, he felt as if the whole thing was a dream. Or rather a nightmare. His vision went blurry and all colour seemed to fade out of the world. Just before he blacked out, he thought he heard a something, a sound in the back of his mind. Although the language was not tangible to him, he understood it perfectly.

_Fooood…_

The two huge Lekgolo were only faintly aware that Innu was lying twitching on the floor of the ancient Forerunner building as they blasted and battered and stomped and crushed the innumerable shapes weaving towards them.

Lero had just stepped on another Flood Infection Form when he heard a guttural moan. He turned towards the sound and saw a Combat Form, Formerly Innu, staggering like a drunk towards Narga's exposed back. Lero was about to warn his partner when the Combat Form swung its tendrils at the orange flesh, ripping out a sizeable chunk. Narga's arms flew out to his sides, the sudden pain shocking his system.

The large Lekgolo stumbled forward, orange blood running down the back of his large, armoured legs. Another violent swipe of long, spidery tendrils swathed through the exposed skin. The pain and loss of blood made Narga too weak to put up any real resistance against his assailants and he fell forward, unconscious, as the Combat Form attacked once more, killing the Lekgolo as the vicious swipe removed many of the Lekgolo's worm-like creatures that made up the body.

Lero looked over at the sound of his partner's body hitting the floor. Half of the lower torso looked like a giant claw had reached in and scooped it out. The sight of Narga's lifeless body threw Lero into a fit of rage. He ran towards the Combat Form and drove his large shield into the creature's chest. The ferocity of Lero's attack caused the Flood's body to explode and fly backwards several feet. Through the haze of anger and sadness, Lero realised that he had left the relative safety of the wall. Worse, he had over-reached in an effort to kill the despicable being that had ended his partner's life.

He was about to retreat back towards the wall when he felt several sharp needles plunging into his back. He knew what they were; Flood Infection Forms. Three of them had attached themselves to his lower back when he had disposed of the Combat Form and were now attempting to mutate him. Lero stumbled backwards, heedlessly stepping on more Infection Forms, and attempted to crush the Flood attached to his back against a wall. However, his bulky armour stopped him short. All it did to Infection Forms was push them deeper into his back. The parasites then started to dig in with renewed ferocity. It wasn't long before they were squirming inside his large body, exploring its vastness with their feelers.

Lero was disgusted by the feeling of three Flood Infection Forms inside him, poking and feeling with their strange appendages. He saw the remaining Infection Forms skitter away into the shadows, leaving him in the darkness, alone.

The massive Lekgolo suddenly felt queasy. His mind swam, his thoughts were disconnected and distant, the world around him seemed to be just a dream, a fantasy made up by him.

Then he heard… what? Sounds? Voices? Thoughts? They were all mixing together. They were saying – thinking? – different things, yet they all seemed to be connected to one main idea. Lero couldn't understand them… could he? He clearly 'heard' several distinct words, distinct thoughts.

…_Ring… Grave… Food… Death… Unity…_

To Lero, the words themselves meant nothing. They had no ties to each other, they were without substance, they were just words. If only he could silence some of the voices to hear what they were talking about. There also seemed to be a dominating voice. It was distant and hard to hear, but it was becoming clearer every moment. It was a very deep, almost rasping voice that had the knowledge of centuries echoing through it.

As the Flood finally claimed him, there was a moment of exquisite pain… and he was no more.

Zanu's eyes widened as he saw the huge, writhing mass fall from the opening in the ceiling, crushing Gugum under its weight. The tall Sangheili could tell from the sound and the smell that it was the Flood. They were in the room, only a few feet from him. He drew his Plasma Sword and assumed a battle stance. Rigon and Taytok grabbed both of their Plasma Rifles and began firing at the mass of bodies streaming towards them.

The Unggoy began panicking as they saw the parasites pouring out of the hole.

"Stand firm!" yelled Zanu over the noise of plasma fire. The Unggoy were too overcome by fear to listen to him. Two of them started firing panicked shots into the swelling mass while the other two dropped their weapons and ran, their arms waving in the air, short, sharp gasps escaping their small bodies.

Zanu growled in annoyance, his gaze following the two retreating figures. He turned his attention back to the Flood. They were still falling from the hole like oversized droplets of poisoned rain.

A particularly vile-looking raindrop leaped at him. There was no time to react and the parasite burst on his shields. The Flood were starting to move towards his position. Rigon and Taytok quickly realised this and ran to different locations. Zanu ran to the left, following Rigon's path. Still running, Zanu turned, swinging his sword blindly. He missed the three Flood Infection Forms leaping at him and they burst on his shields, depleting them further. He needed to find a position where he could easily defend himself from the Flood and allow his shields to recharge. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Taytok's shields flicker and then disappear, depleted. Taytok yelled, firing plasma into thin air as Flood Infection Forms swamped over him, covering his body, all of them eager to penetrate the soft flesh.

Backing away, Zanu swung his sword again, the blade bursting two more Infection Forms, but missing the other three which impacted his shields, draining them significantly. He desperately needed to find cover before his shields failed completely. He bumped into a wall, which was a bad position. He pushed off it and started running for the other side of the room, diving over the Flood Forms that were still pooling in the middle of the floor. As Zanu landed from his dive, rolling forward to absorb the impact, he heard fuel rod cannons firing. The Flood had reached the lower floors and were attacking the rest of his warriors.

Spinning, Zanu's Plasma Sword sliced in an arc once more, catching one of the parasites flying towards him. There was a strange, guttural moan behind him. Zanu turned to see what was left of Taytok shambling towards him. The shock of suddenly seeing a Flood Combat Form so close to him paralysed his limbs just long enough for the horribly mutated creature to swing a deformed arm at him, smashing into his right side and knocking his shields out. Zanu jumped right as the former Sangheili attacked again. Two Infection Forms appeared in front of Zanu, but he kicked them away, irritably. His action had cost him dearly. The Combat Form rushed forward, its disfigured arms outstretched to seize him. Without breaking stride or hesitating, the creature launched another mighty swing of its tendrils at Zanu, catching him in the abdomen. Zanu cried out in anguish as blood, his blood, flowed from the cruel laceration.

Acting on instinct, the Red Armoured Sangheili raised his sword-arm and then brought it down with a strength born of pain and rage. The superheated energy blade cut easily through the Flood Warrior's weak flesh. The gruesome figure stopped in mid-stride, both feet planted on the floor. Slowly, the Flood Warrior split into two parts, the two halves falling away from each other. An awful stench hit Zanu and he backed away, coughing.

There was a faint _whoosh_ as Zanu's shields recharged. Zanu sighed with relief. Now he was no longer vulnerable. Just as he was preparing to battle more Infection Forms, several bolts of blue plasma came sizzling out of the shadows towards him. Zanu immediately knew that Rigon had been taken by the Flood. He sliced two more Infection Forms and then transferred his Plasma Sword to his other hand. He unhooked the Needler hanging at his side and fired roughly half the clip towards the figure shambling from the darkness. Seventeen crystalline shards flew towards the Combat Form, embedding themselves in the green flesh before exploding violently, leaving nothing but the stumps of legs and an arm surrounded by watery, green blood. His foe defeated, Zanu turned his attention on the remaining Infection Forms. He was tiring, drawing in lungfuls of air, ignoring the foul smell of the Flood as best he could.

Just as he was preparing to throw a plasma grenade into the mass, something which he did only when he was sure the grenade would not be carried back to him, he heard a deep roar followed by booming footsteps. Still, clutching the Plasma Grenade in his right hand, Zanu fended off the seemingly endless swarm of parasitical creatures as _something_ lumbered up the ramp of the building.

Zanu couldn't clearly see what it was, but he didn't wait for the creature to show itself; he activated his plasma grenade and threw it straight at his target, the hissing blue ball arcing over the Infection Forms. As soon as the grenade had left his hand, Zanu swiped at another parasite jumping towards him. To his dismay, the Plasma Sword ran out of energy just as the Infection Form popped. Looking away from his darkened sword, the Red Sangheili turned his attention on the large creature that he had managed to stick his plasma grenade to. In the small pool of light it emitted, he saw what appeared to be the shape of a Lekgolo, yet it was grossly deformed. The grenade exploded, obscuring his view of the large creature. But what he had seen was beyond words. Was he right in thinking that a Lekgolo was infected by the Flood virus? That couldn't be correct, could it? It was impossible!

Impossible or not, the large Flood Form moved towards him. Enraged by the plasma explosion, it heedlessly trampled the smaller Infection Forms which scurried around it. Zanu threw his sword away; it was now next to useless to him. He armed himself with his Needler and dove left, avoiding the monster's lethal swing. The tall Sangheili landed heavily, causing his wound to start burning with a renewed intensity. He cried out in anguish, clutching his stomach with his left hand. Bearing the pain, Zanu stood up, retreating from the Lekgolo Flood Form – _Impossible!_ – which was turning towards him, again. The Sangheili thought frantically, he was wounded, he was exhausted and he had a weapon that was almost useless against such a creature. Then an idea struck him – it wasn't much of a plan, but it was better than nothing. He grabbed another grenade, thinking quickly. He moved slowly towards the ramp, getting ready to move. Activating the grenade, he held it for one second. Then, bracing his legs, he threw it towards the slowly moving Flood Form. No sooner had it touched the infected Lekgolo than brightened and exploded. The instant Zanu saw the grenade brighten, he ran down the ramp, praying he wouldn't encounter much Flood in the lower levels.

The explosion had confused and disorientated the huge monster. Once it had regained its senses, it looked around, tendrils twitching. It knew its prey had moved, it _saw_ it move, but not to where. Surely it must still be up here? The Flood Form could not see the ramp Zanu had disappeared down, and so began searching its immediate surroundings, hoping to find its prey and crush it with the large object attached to its powerful arm.

Fatigued and injured, Zanu stumbled around in the darkness, listening to the Lekgolo Flood Form stomping around above him. He stayed alert for sounds of slithering or hissing that would indicate Infection Forms nearby. He slowly moved through the lower level of the Forerunner building, which now seemed to be some kind of holding structure rather than a temple.

Ahead he saw the three arches that opened to the outside. Shakily, he staggered towards the exit. He had walked only a few steps before he fell to his knees. A jolt of electricity seared through his wound and he was forced to use all of his will power not to cry out and reveal his position. He choked back his yell of pain, sweat trickling down his face. He looked around just to be sure nothing had noticed him and spotted an alcove to his right. He groggily stood up and began moving towards it, grabbing onto the frame of the threshold for support as he neared it. He moved as far into the alcove as possible and slid down a wall to a sitting position in a corner, waiting for his strength to return. He would never survive out in the cold in his condition. He needed to get his strength back before venturing outside. But he was so weary. His limbs were weak and sluggish. His eyes felt as heavy as his armour and he struggled to keep them open. His vision blurred and he found himself continually forcing his eyes to focus. He couldn't afford to sleep here, not with the Flood close by and especially not when there was a mutated Lekgolo so near, eager for his blood.

Suddenly, Zanu felt a wonderful peacefulness cover him like a soft blanket. He felt as light as air. He would ha_ve plenty of time for sleep when he got back to _– Zanu sat up sharply, pointing his Needler at the alcove's entrance. Nothing. Zanu realised he had almost fallen asleep! How foolish! The adrenaline running through his veins helped his body awaken, although it still felt sore and tired. He released his grip on the Needler and it clattered on the floor next to him. He breathed deeply, drawing cool oxygen into his lungs. For some reason, he found himself laughing softly at nothing in particular. His brain was so exhausted that everything seemed funny, even the Flood.

Zanu shook his head. This was no way for a Sangheili of his stature to act! A faint trace of a smile remained on his face and laughter still escaped from him, but it was humourless and was more a way of his body releasing tension than from mirth.

He leaned his head against the cold wall behind him, listening to the sounds of the slowly retreating storm and his own ragged breathing. He was so tired, he hardly noticed the tall shapes moving slowly towards him. Hearing footsteps stop near him, he turned his head towards the sound. Hope rose inside of him. Could it be his fellow Sangheili? Before he could discern the shapes hovering near him, white light exploded in his face, burning his hope away. He cried out, turning his head away and instinctively raising his arm to block the light that was blinding his darkness-adjusted eyes.

Then, the figure wielding the light spoke, "Who are you?"

Zanu's expression darkened.

Humans…


	5. The End of the Hunter

**0132 hours, October 10, 2552 (Military Calendar) / Delta Halo**

Steele was beginning to regret firing at the Hunter Flood creature. It effortlessly swung its massive shield, using the momentum to turn quickly and face the new threat.

The Lieutenant was having trouble hitting the creature's weak spots. Despite being taken over by the Flood, the Hunter still had its natural training instincts. Tendrils quivering, it held its impenetrable shield up and kept its head down, preventing further damage.

The huge creature roared as it hurtled towards him at a terrifying speed.

"Ohhh, shit…" swore Steele.

He barrel rolled to the right, the shield missing him by inches. It was then he noticed pink crystalline shards flying towards the monster. Of the many which were fired, only a few hit their intended mark, causing next to no damage. Steele looked towards Zanu, who made an irritated slashing motion with his hand, cursing his ineffectual weapon.

Steele grabbed his pistol and shouted to Zanu, "Hey! Use this!"

He threw the weapon, got up and then started running towards Zanu, glancing back at the Flood creature as he did so.

The Red Armoured Elite looked down at the weapon which had landed at his feet. He picked it up, quickly examined it and then looked over at Steele who had neared him.

"Do you expect me to use _this_ worthless human weapon?" the tall Covenant warrior asked, scowling.

"Say what you want, but that weapon will do more damage than that Needler you've got there."

Zanu simply snorted derisively.

"We have a saying – 'If it hurts, it works', and that thing'll definitely hurt Doctor Octopus over there," retorted Steele, nodding his head towards the Hunter, which was now pounding the ground with its shield the way a bull would paw the ground before charging the matador.

Zanu had no idea who or what Doctor Octopus was, but he got the message clear enough.

He hung his Needler by his side and swapped the human pistol over to his weapon hand, shaking his head.

_I cannot believe I have to resort to using human weapons…_ he thought, angrily, taking the two clips Steele handed him.

The Hunter Flood Form stuck its shield into the ground and then launched forward, using the shield as leverage to give itself a boost. In the two seconds it took for the Hunter to get the shield into a defensive position, Zanu and Steele had loosed several rounds into its exposed belly. The creature never slowed. Its pounding footsteps reverberated through the ground as the monster closed the gap between it and its enemies.

"Split!" yelled Steele.

Steele ran to the left while Zanu ran to the right. Unfortunately for Steele, the Hunter Flood followed him. Glancing over his shoulder as he ran, Steele saw the huge shape of the Hunter following him.

"Crap!" he cried, turning sharply to the right, the huge monster following him. Steele glanced over and saw Zanu watching the chase with amusement.

"God damn it, don't just stand there! Shoot the damn thing!"

Zanu continued to watch for a few more moments and then took aim, firing when he saw the exposed green flesh.

Several shots later and the gun clicked empty. Zanu cursed, looking for a release mechanism on the clumsy human weapon.

"Press the button near the trigger!" Steele cried hurriedly, dodging around the Hunter Flood, taking pot shots at its back and, occasionally, its front.

Zanu examined the area near the trigger. It took a few moments before his tired eyes fixated on a small black button where his thumb would rest. He pressed it and the empty clip slid out smoothly. Without pausing, Zanu grabbed another clip and inserted it.

As the Elite continued firing at the massive Flood form, he heard a raspy, mechanical sound getting louder. Suddenly, the source of the noise burst through the foliage. All three combatants stopped to turn and look at the Warthog. Dezmin was at the wheel, Smith rode in the passenger seat and Robinson manned the mounted machine gun. All of them had M41 SSR rocket launchers visible.

Startled by this new arrival, the Hunter Flood charged towards the Warthog. The marines in the seats scrambled to get out, pushing the launchers out of their way, while Robinson fired the machine gun, not thinking to move.

The Hunter Flood swung its mighty shield on Dezmin's side of the vehicle, causing it to flip onto its back, trapping Smith and Dezmin. Robinson, however, disorientated and hurt, crawled out from under the gunner's stand towards the Hunter. With his head bowed, looking at the ground, he never saw the Flood form raising its shield. Just as the young marine sensed danger, the Hunter's large weapon flashed down in a second, smashing his torso. Human blood mingled with the blood from the Covenant races that had perished on the shield earlier, creating a gruesome, wet rainbow.

The Flood Form turned its attention to the overturned Warthog while Steele fired his BR55 at the distracted Hunter, partly out of sheer anger.

It had killed Robinson. It had killed a young marine without remorse. It had killed a friend.

Steele squeezed the trigger violently, as the Hunter Flood moved towards the Warthog.

Heedless of the shots ricocheting off its armour, the Hunter began pounding the vehicle with both arms, roaring. The agonised screams of the trapped marines and the sound of buckling metal only fuelled the Flood's excitement. The screams soon stopped as the marines' internal organs were crushed.

With one final, mighty blow, the Hunter Flood smashed the Warthog into two halves.

The Flood Form stood a moment, taking pleasure in the wreckage before it and then focused on the human and Elite once again.

"We have to get the Rocket Launchers! They're next to the Warthog! Cover me!" Steele cried hurriedly at Zanu. Without waiting for a response, he ran towards the destroyed vehicle. As he neared the Hunter, Steele took a sharp left, skidding slightly on the wet mud. He felt the vibration of the Hunter's shield hitting the ground behind him and his adrenaline kicked in.

Three cracks sounded from the M6C pistol. The first two shots hit the Hunter's exposed back section while the third whizzed past Steele, dangerously close.

_Watch where you're firing, damn it!_ thought Steele as he turned towards the Warthog with the huge Flood Form right behind him. Three more shots rang out, all hitting their mark and finally distracting the beast.

Still shaking from the adrenaline coursing through his system, Steele dropped his BR55 and lifted up a launcher, trying to ignore the twitching fingers of the hand that had been clutching it. It was almost as if the dead marine was trying to take the weapon back.

Putting that thought out of his mind, Steele hefted up the launcher and moved into a position where he would be able to fire at the Hunter without the Warthog wreckage blocking him.

"Get out of the way!" yelled Steele as he aimed through the launcher's scope. He saw Zanu dodge and weave, avoiding the Hunter's attacks. Eventually, the Elite managed to put enough distance between himself and the Hunter, giving Steele the opening he needed.

"Firing!" he cried, launching the rocket a split-second later.

The Hunter turned at the heavy _thump_ of the launched explosive. A second later, the rocket impacted the Hunter's armour and exploded. The huge beast staggered and then fell backwards.

Zanu turned his head when the rocket exploded, the bright flash hurt his tired, darkness-adjusted eyes. When he looked again, the Hunter lay on its back, unmoving. Was it dead? He looked over at Steele who was still peering through the scope.

Steele waited, watching the Flood for any movement. For a few moments, there was nothing... then he saw it - the Hunter was attempting to get up. Its movements were very sluggish and laboured. Steele aimed carefully, placing the reticle directly over the struggling Flood Form.

"This is for Dezmin, Smith and Robinson, you bastard," whispered Steele, before firing his remaining rocket, watching it sail towards its target. The explosion caused the Hunter to slide a few short feet through the slippery mud and rest next to the base of the Forerunner building.

Steele dropped the M41 rocket launcher and picked up his BR55. He trudged towards the unmoving giant, keeping his battle rifle aimed at the creature. When he neared it, he focused all of his attention on it, watching for the slightest hint of life, listening for breathing. There was no movement, no sound, nothing. The Lieutenant kicked its armoured boot, tensing up to move if need be, but the monster didn't react. The Hunter Flood was finally dead.

Steele relaxed, lowering his rifle, slowly. Zanu joined him next to the body.

"It is dead," commented Zanu.

"Yeah," replied Steele, "thanks for the help."

Zanu waved a hand, dismissively, then knelt to examine the body more closely.

"Hey, be careful," warned Steele.

"...To think..." said Zanu, ignoring the Lieutenant, "...the Flood were able to mutate a Lekgolo," he shook his head and then stood, scowling.

Steele cleared his throat, attracting Zanu's attention, "I'm hoping this act of co-operation will eventually lead to our two species being friends."

"Friends?"

"Yeah. I'm not expecting it to happen overnight, but maybe one day..."

"Hm. Maybe."

"As a sign of good faith, you can keep that weapon as a trophy, or a reminder, or something," offered Steele, pointing his chin at the black pistol that looked like a child's toy in the grip of the armoured giant.

Zanu looked at the pistol, up at Steele and back to the pistol, again.

"Our species as friends," the Elite's gaze moved to Steele once more. The Lieutenant's eyes widened as soon as he read the threat in Zanu's face. The pistol came up blindingly fast, its barrel pointing directly at his head.

The Lieutenant started, "What are you doing?"

"Friends," repeated Zanu, coldy, "How pathetic. Only a _human_ could conjure up such a pitiful notion. This is why you are losing the war. Your weak-willed race believe that this conflict can be resolved peacefully. You are so foolish. There is only one acceptable outcome - the complete annhiliation of your species. We will not let you interfere with The Great Journey!"

"Wait! Don't-!"

Steele's words were cut off by a loud _crack_ as Zanu squeezed the trigger, firing the pistol. The Lieutenant's head snapped back as the bullet penetrated his skull and he fell backwards, landing heavily.

Zanu looked down at the corpse of the human, the round eyes open in shock and fear. The Red Elite would have preferred to have made him suffer by cruelly stabbing and gouging with his Needler, but there was a certain feeling of enjoyment that came from killing the human using the weapon that had been given as a 'gift'. Zanu sneered and then spat on Steele's body.

_Naive fool..._

Zanu turned away, intending to leave, but then turned back.

In a loose, underarm throw, Zanu tossed the pistol towards Steele.

"Here is your weapon back... _human_."

The tall Elite grunted in pain as electricity jolted through his wound. Clutching at the injury, Zanu unhooked his Needler and, without looking back, began walking in the direction of his encampment, leaving the scene of destruction and death behind him.


End file.
